


Anything for You

by Dragestil



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Bathing/Washing, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragestil/pseuds/Dragestil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trott knows just how to get what he wants from Ross - and sometimes it's not what's expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything for You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [threeplusfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeplusfire/gifts).



> Prompt: IF YOU USE UP ALL THE HOT WATER ONE MORE TIME IM GOING TO BAN YOU TO THE COUCH FOR A MONTH AU - Trott/Ross  
> Three asked and thus he shall receive

“Rosss,” Trott called, voice grating and nasal.

“No. No no no. You are not using that voice now!”

“Rosss, why’s there never any hot water, Rosssss? I wanted to take a baaath.”

“Trott, please, I’ll do anything if you stop that voice.”

“Anything?”

The shorter male’s head appeared from around the bathroom doorframe. He had a wicked grin on his face and one hand loosely holding a towel around his waist. Ross almost immediately regretted his life choices. Would he never learn that “anything” was a dangerous word around  _his_  mates? He sighed.

“Yes, yes, anything, fine. What are you gonna make me do?”

“Come here, Rosssss.”

“You said you’d stop!”

“And you said you’d do anything. Can’t stop ‘til I’ve got what I want, Rossss.”

Ross sighed again but set his headphones down on the desk, pushed back from his desk, and spun to face the bathroom. He hadn’t  _meant_  to consistently use the entire hot water supply of their small flat, but he always ended up spending ages in the shower thinking and then there was laundry to be done and before he knew it Trott was complaining about the mandatory cold showers. He walked with his head hung to join his best mate.

“So what do I have to do then?”

“Sit down, Rosss.”

The taller man rolled his eyes but obeyed, taking a seat on the toilet and rather shamelessly admiring Trott’s toned stomach. His ogling was clearly caught as Trott let out a short laugh and dropped his towel. The shorter crossed from the door to the bathtub, which was already full. He gratefully sank down into the steaming water with a long exhale.

“Hey, wait a minute! Wasn’t this about not having any hot water?!”

“Usually, there  _isn’t_ any. But I got to the shower before you today and figured it was about time to pay up for all those cold showers.”

“Fine,” Ross groaned, trying to keep his eyes from roaming across the other man’s  _assets_. “So why am I here? There’s no way we’ll both fit in there. I barely fit by myself.”

“I know, poor lanky sunshine. But you aren’t getting in. You’re helping me, Rosss,” Trott said, throwing on the grating voice and a simpering smile for the last sentence.

Ross’ brow furrowed, and he cocked his head as he stared at the other. They had definitely taken more than a fair few showers together, but this was something new. And it seemed strangely intimate, bringing a light flush to his cheeks before he could think to fight it. He nodded though. It wasn’t like he was opposed to taking care of Trott.

“Are you just going to sit and stare?” Trott asked quietly - and Ross realised there was a hint of hesitation, as if the other didn’t know if Ross really was okay with the whole situation.

“No! Course not! Said I’d do anything, right? And this is hardly even a challenge,” he assured, slipping to kneel by the side of the tub.

He reached across Trott to grab the bar of soap and pressed a soft kiss to the man’s forehead as he pulled back. He definitely wouldn’t have the other doubting when this was a chance for a nice, quiet afternoon spent together. They really didn’t get these chances much, especially with how busy they had all been. But Smith had promised to get done a few extra projects so that the other two could finally take a break. 

Trott smiled as he leaned back against the wall of the tub and closed his eyes, head tilted upward. Between the hot water and the feeling of Ross’ smooth hands beginning to wash his neck and shoulders, he was in paradise. He nodded vaguely to all of the instructions he was given, casually lifting first one arm and then the other before leaning forward to allow Ross access to his back.

The taller took his time. He let his hands roam long after the soap was gone from them and Trott’s skin. He memorised every inch of skin he was given access to. Of course he had spent ages staring and even exploring, but this was different. There was no rush. There was no heady lust clouding his senses. He could honestly appreciate his lover, and it was fantastic.

“Leg,” he murmured, still half-draped over the tub and Trott’s bent form.

It took a moment to realise that he would need to move so the shorter could lean back again. Then he was presented with a bare leg slung up on the side of the tub. He took a steadying breath and pointedly kept his eyes away from Trott’s groin. He wanted to make this sweet and good, he reminded himself. Getting a boner would  _not_  be helpful, especially since there would be zero chance of navigating both of them in the tub at once.

Time slowed itself for the two men, letting Trott quietly enjoy being pampered and Ross finally be allowed to care for his highly self-sufficient lover. Eventually, the taller could stall no more. He had carefully washed two thighs, and knees, and calves. He had washed ten toes and between them and ran feather-light touches down the slick soles of two feet.

“Hair first,” Trott breathed, voice distant and eyes still shut, though he let his head loll forward so Ross could reach all of it without hitting the wall.

Ross nodded and grabbed a cup from the counter by the sink. He carefully wet the other man’s hair while shielding his eyes with one hand. He set the cup to the side before squeezing a bit of shampoo into his hand and beginning to lather up Trott’s hair. He had always been amazed by how silky it was, and now was certainly no different. He massaged at the man’s scalp as he worked and murmured quiet, breathless words of astonishment at just how lucky he was to have such a lover as this.

For his part, Trott seemed in bliss. He leaned into every touch, and his smile only widened at all of the compliments he was being paid. He let Ross do as he wished until at last he felt the other move away. The sink turned on and in a minute, hot water was being gently poured over his head. Ross rinsed his hair meticulously until Trott was quite certain not a single sud would be left.

The shorter was almost ready to just get out. This had been so perfect, and Ross had already done so much for him. He didn’t want to ask for more than he deserved. After all, this was all supposed to be just about Ross’ habit of using more than his share of the hot water. But Ross’ soap-slick hand slipping beneath the water stopped him.

He took a deep breath as deft fingers washed along the curve of his pelvis down to his groin. The touches were delicate, and Trott was well aware that Ross was doing everything he could not to work either of them up. It warmed him much more thoroughly than the water he was soaking in. Too soon, though, he was clean, and Ross was shifting back onto his heels to admire his work and the view. He ruffled Trott’s freshly washed hair.

“Ready to get out? I can get you a towel straight from the dryer if you like - should be finishing up right about now.”

“Mm, sounds good, sunshine,” Trott replied, finally opening his eyes again just in time to watch Ross’ disappear out the door.

He didn’t have to wait long for the taller to return, and he stepped happily from the tub into the warm towel. He held it around his shoulders as Ross bent to unplug the stopper from the drain. Then he offered it back to the other man.

“One last thing for me, Ross?” he asked, without the sharp affectation.

“Course, mate,  _anything_.”


End file.
